


A Little Haunting Never Killed Nobody

by kagedyams



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Lance is afraid of being alone, Little bit of angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pidge is an asshole, Poorly written in an hour bc i suck, pidge hunk and shiro are only really mentioned??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagedyams/pseuds/kagedyams
Summary: Whoever thought going to the abandoned house on the corner of Wichet Road and Ogden Street would be a good idea was an idiot.Whoever thought going to the abandoned house on the corner of Wichet Road and Ogden Street with Pidge would be a good idea was an even bigger idiot.
Or: Keith and Lance are alone in a (haunted) house and one of them is secretly very scared.





	

Whoever thought going to the abandoned house on the corner of Wichet Road and Ogden Street would be a good idea was an idiot.

Whoever thought going to the abandoned house on the corner of Wichet Road and Ogden Street with  _ Pidge _ would be a good idea was an even bigger idiot.

When Hunk proposed to trick-or-treat for Halloween and get loads of candy, Lance had scoffed and said they were too old for that (of course, Lance was secretly hoping to dress up as an astronaut this year). Pidge, being the devil they are, suggested they do some obscure test of courage in the creepy desolate house on the corner of their street before Lance could protest. 

It was a house which, as Pidge claimed while flickering the lights, was haunted by the last tenants who were brutally murdered nearly 70 years ago. The front door had rusted off its hinges and the wood was rotting off the sides, and Lance might have been a bit more than a little freaked out, but at Pidge’s suggestion that he was  _ too scared _ , he scowled and insisted that he wasn’t and he was going to _ prove it _ , cajoling his entire friend group into going to the house with him.

* * *

 

“‘ _ Split up.’  _ they said. ‘ _ It’ll be like Scooby Doo,’ _ they said,” Lance grumbled under his breath, shoulders hunched as he shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to jump at each creak and moan of the wooden floorboards as they protested under his feet. “It’s just like that little troll to do something like this,” Lance continued, grumbling incoherently at his absent friend.

“Can you stop complaining for, I don’t know, two seconds? I’m not exactly happy to be here either, you know,” came the gruff voice behind Lance. Lance ground his teeth in frustration; there was no way Pidge didn’t plan on Lance being stuck with Keith in some abandoned (and possibly haunted) house an hour before midnight on Halloween night. It was just so  _ evil  _ that it had to be premeditated by the devil reincarnate. 

“It’s just like you to pick the short straw, really says something about your anatomy,” Lance snickered at his own joke.

“What does that even mean? Besides, I’m surprised at how short your straw was considered how far up your ass it’s been shoved,” Keith retorted sharply, spurring Lance to turn around and confront him.

“Sorry, but I don’t even remember you even being  _ invited.  _ I didn’t ask to be stuck with some stick-in-the-mud asshole,” Lance didn’t really have any insult with solid ground, but he was too frustrated at Keith’s total nonchalance with the whole ordeal. Come on, the house smelled like rotting flesh and was filled with dust and bugs, who wouldn’t be creeped out?

Keith shrugged, evidently  _ not  _ creeped out. “Shiro said this place was haunted. Kinda wanted to see some ghosts,” Keith prods a rickety floorboard with his foot, prompting it to creak conspicuously.

“Don’t do that! You never know if this house is just going to collapse on the spot!” Lance hissed before realizing how frightened his words sounded. He quickly backtracked, saying, “Besides, who believes in ghosts anyway? Come on man, grow up,” Lance laughed derisively, continuing onward deeper into the room. The flashlight on his phone reflected off the dust that rose around the mildewed furniture and swaying light fixtures. Okay, Lance was unnerved by the state of the house, but there was  _ no way  _ he was scared by ghosts.

“Ghosts are real!” Keith protested, the whine of the wood hinting that Keith was following in Lance’s wake. “Just because you haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they aren’t around.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “Please, only children believe that kind of—” he trailed off.

Keith stopped, eyeing him curiously, “Lance, what’s— mmph!” Keith’s eyes widened as a pair of widened blue eyes met his gaze, a warm hand cutting off the words that were leaking off of Keith’s lips. The light from Lance’s phone disappeared, and the other hand snaked up and rested one finger against Lance’s lips, a universal gesture for  _ shut the fuck up _ . Keith only watched him quizzically as Lance’s panicked gaze flickered around.

After a moment of silence and bated breath, Lance’s hands fell to his side, allowing Keith to breathe once more. “What was that about!?” Keith questioned in a pseudo-whisper, afraid of getting a hand slapped to his mouth again.

“I swear I saw something run past that doorway,” Lance answered in a quaky whisper, pointing to a darkened doorway adjacent to the room they were in. Only darkness greeted Keith’s eyes, accompanied only by the faint slivers of moonlight revealed by the holes in the ceiling. 

“Is this some sort of prank? There’s nothing there, Lance. If you’re trying to freak me out so I’ll get scared it’s not going to work,” Keith huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. Lance let out a weak chuckle.

“Right, nothing fazes the almighty Keith. Nothing will scare you, not even the person sneaking up right… behind you!” Lance gripped Keith’s shoulders tightly, sighing when he elicited no reaction. “Yeah I get it, not scared at all. Let’s keep going, I want to find Pidge so we can ditch this dump,” Lance mumbled, apparently bored with trying to frighten Keith and moving forward through the living room and into a hallway. 

The phone light flicked back on, just in time to catch a cockroach as it scuttled into a crevice. Lance shuddered; roaches creeped him out. He had no doubt that Hunk had already freaked out and left the house with Shiro, but knowing Pidge, they were lurking around some corner waiting with their phone to catch a video of Lance having a panic attack. Joke’s on them, Lance was going to find that snotrag and kick their ass into outer space for leaving him here, and with  _ Keith _ no less. No way was he going to leave until then; not even if the legs on that end table looked like claws reaching towards him. Lance Sanchez was not a quitter.

“Hey, I think there’s some sort of stairwell here, it might lead into the cellar. Wanna check it out?” Keith’s voice cut through the eerie silence, and Lance whirled around as Keith jangled the doorknob, pulling it open with startling resistance to showcase a milky abyss below.

“In there? No way, there’s probably some weird…  _ something  _ down there,” Lance resisted, his own fear winning out his need to outdo Keith at the moment. “But maybe if you go down there you’ll find your ghosts or whatever,” he challenged as an afterthought.

“Yeah, there might actually be something interesting down there. So are you going to come down with me?” Keith offered, turning to Lance.

“Huh? Nah, I think I’ll stay up there and try to find Pidge. It’s almost midnight anyways, my mom’s really strict about curfew,” Lance excused himself, shifting his gaze away.

“Fine, but give me your phone then,” Keith ordered, holding out his hand.

“Why would I do that?” Lance asked, narrowing his eyes at Keith.

“I left my phone at home and my flashlight ran out back in the dining room. It’s gonna be much darker down there than it is up here.” Keith paused, a challenging smirk spreading across his face. “Unless you’re afraid of the dark?”

Lance sneered as he reluctantly handed over the phone, flashlight still shining.“As if I’d be scared. Make sure you don’t trip running up the stairs after you get frightened by  _ ghosts _ ,” Lance quipped.

Keith rolled his eyes but nodded, turning his attention to the rotten staircase as he descended slowly, each stair creaking as if they were willing to give out at any time. After a minute the creaking stopped, replaced by soft footfalls as Keith’s boots met the cold concrete of the basement floor. Lance watched the flashlight disappear as Keith moved in, and he found himself alone on the first floor.

“All right, just gotta find Pidge now. Keith can totally handle himself, I’m fine without my flashlight. Yeah, who needs light anyways?” Lance muttered to himself, shifting on his feet as he glanced around the hallway. 

The shadows crept towards him like the claws of a hungry lion grasping for meat, ready to dig into his flesh and tear him apart. He shuddered slightly, looking towards the basement to try to find the traces of his flashlight. There were none. The harsh weather from outside permeated the rickety establishment, faint winds causing the chandelier overhead to sway upon a rusted chain. It groaned and squealed, ready to detach itself and shatter on Lance directly below.

The squeak of a mouse was faintly underlying Lance’s raspy breathing, a blotted figure scurrying along the termite-infested floorboards. Lance jumped softly and turned once more towards the basement.

“Hey, Keith? Can you hear me down there?” He called out. Nobody answered. He continued, small quaver audible in his voice. “Hey Keith, I think you should come back up. It’s getting kinda late, Pidge probably got bored and left, y’know? Let’s head back.” 

No response.

Lance’s eyes tried to take in every part of the room at once, hyper aware of each movement and every small noise. There was a bang, like a door closing, and Lance lost it. He called out to Keith once more before frantically making his way down the hallway, retracing his steps through the twilit rooms to find the front door. The hinges had rusted so much that it barely allowed them to enter, and as he grasped for the handle, he found nothing but chilled wood. He ran his hands along the surface of the door, heart rate spiking as he met nothing but the splintered surface of the door. There was no inside door handle.

“All right Pidge, joke’s over. You got me now, come out so we can go home!” Lance called out, voice echoing slightly in the desolate lot. Nobody emerged from a shadowy corner. “Hey Pidge, are you deaf or something? You got me, I’m super scared right now, so get out here and open the door already. Hey, Pidge? Pidge!” 

_ Pidge? Pidge! _ A soft echo greeted.

“Oh, I’m so going to kill them when I find them,” Lance muttered, running through the hall as he tried to find someone, _ anyone _ . Shiro was still here, right? He wouldn’t be freaked out by something like this. And Keith was right there in the basement. All Lance needed to do was go down the stairs and find him, maybe yank his dumb mullet for stealing his phone and freaking him out. His ears picked up every noise, sensitive to the splintering wood as his feet pounded down the hallway. He heard the crack before he felt it, the give of wood as it split in half, catching his ankle in between. Lance cried out, falling face first into a pile of mold and dust.

“Guys, this isn’t funny anymore! I’m serious, I’m not laughing! Please, just come out!” Lance called, lifting his head, only to be greeted by darkness. “Guys?” He called out, voice hoarse. A ball of dread clogged his throat, and he felt the tears trail down his cheeks before he realized he was crying. 

Lance was alone.

* * *

 

The doorway opening into the basement was almost entirely closed off by cobwebs, but with the help of some broken broom resting against the side of the staircase, Keith was able to combat the sticky webs. He coughed as dust assaulted his nose, blocking his airways as he wheezed into his elbow. The cellar wasn’t anything spectacular, just the archetypal basement of an abandoned (and hopefully  _ haunted _ ) house. A boiler was rusting in the corner, the red paint chipped and covered in mildew. Rotted crates littered the crevice, filled with miscellaneous goods that were never claimed. Something sharp cracked under Keith’s foot, and he aimed Lance’s flashlight down to see the shattered glass of a beer bottle.

“Definitely creepy,” Keith monologued, stepping over the remnants of the bottle and advancing further. He could hear the creak of Lance’s footsteps above, sending a prickle of annoyance down Keith’s spine. Of course Pidge had to pair him up with that egotistical numbskull. Lance was probably waiting for Keith to come back up so he could pop out and frighten him. Little did Lance know, Keith was going to stay down here until that boy gave up. 

There really wasn’t much down in the cellar, save for the bugs and the nonperishable food items hidden in rotted crates. After five minutes of aimlessly walking around and prodding at the dust, Keith sat on the crate that looked least likely to collapse under his weight and focused his attention to Lance’s phone. Lance’s annoying footsteps could still be heard in the cavernous cellar, and he swore he heard a voice echoing downwards but he ignored it. It only took a couple tries to unlock Lance’s phone (seriously, who besides Lance would set their password as 6969?) and Keith was granted the  _ wonderful  _ sight of Lance’s background. Seriously, who sets a selfie as their background? Well, it didn’t exactly count as a selfie since Keith was glaring in the distance, but still. 

Keith felt a small nudge of guilt looking through Lance’s phone, but he needed to text Pidge and tell him to stop playing stupid pranks. He opened the messenger app, fingers poised to type out a furious message when his eyes caught the previous conversation.

_ Lance: Dude, did u srsly pair me up with Keith? _ _   
_ _ Pidge: >:3c _

_ Lance: not funny u kno how I feel about that asshole _

_ Pidge: hey, maybe if he gets scared he’ll jump into your arms _

_ Lance: when i find u im so gonna kill u. _

_ Pidge: if u find me >;3c _

Keith had to reread the message a few times until he could grasp the general meaning.  _ How does Lance feel?  _ He asked, reading through the short conversation again as if he could glimpse some new understanding. But before he could ponder it for too long, there was a sharp crack from above him that snapped him from his thought and had him standing up and alert. He heard a distinct, recognizable shout and he sprung into action, feet carrying him to the staircase before he knew he was moving. He ignored the protest of the wood and the fear of falling though. 

He knew that scream, and that bang didn’t sound good in the slightest. The flashlight was still on, and he swung it around the hallway, shining light of every corner, trying to find the source of the noise. Light filtered towards the floor, catching on the splintered floorboard and a foot protruding from the mess.

“Lance?” Keith called, phone clattering to the floor as his hands lost all feeling. He heard a muffled sob and he walked over tentatively, bending over by Lance’s head. He was face down on the floor, but no absence of light could hide the glimmer of tears streaking his face. “Lance, are you okay?” 

Lance’s head shot up, hand flying out to smack away Keith’s. He shut his eyes tight so no more tears could escape, but it proved futile as they overflowed  and slipped down his cheeks. “You asshole!” Lance shouted, throat hoarse and burning from the tears and dust. “You stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid asshole…” He paused as he choked on more sobs, coughing and spluttering out incoherent insults aimed at Keith. “That wasn’t… that wasn’t funny, asshole.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you Lance, I’m sorry,” Keith apologized, tentatively reaching a hand out. This time, Lance didn’t resist and let Keith wipe the moisture away from his face. Keith scooted forward slightly, helping Lance free his injured foot from between the broken pieces of wood and pulling him into a seated stance. “I’m sorry, I’m an asshole, I shouldn’t have left,” Keith consoled, pulling Lance into his chest as he sobbed softly. “I didn’t realize, Lance.”

He was only met with the soft quaking of Lance as he heaved in deep breaths, fists clenching against Keith’s jacket. He mumbled against the black fabric of Keith’s shirt, “it was dark and the door was— the knob wasn’t there. Nobody was answering and I was alone and it was dark and I was so alone,” Keith rubbed circles along Lance’s back, listening to him in silence as he babbled his fears into Keith’s chest.

“I’m here, it’s okay,” Keith soothed, pulling away Lance’s face softly. He squished his cheeks together, feeling the tears track over his digits. He ignored the snot creeping out of Lance’s nose, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Lance’s forehead. “I’m not leaving this time, okay?” Keith said, and Lance could only nod.

**Author's Note:**

> uh first off thanks to Fluffy for being an awesome beta.
> 
> Also thanks to myself for not falling asleep before posting it.
> 
> It's not yet midnight here so I'm still allowed to post this, right?
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed the shitty oneshot I made bc I've been having trouble writing lately. Hopefully will be able to finish chapter 2 for the klance amnesia fic once that ship regains some wind in its sails.
> 
> If you want to scream, messageme at kagedyams.tumblr.com


End file.
